The simplicity of his desire, and the emotion coupled with it, took her breath away. One hand hovered over his cheek, fingertips just barely brushing the skin. “Oh, Mordred … ” Anguish for him laced her voice.
Mordred gave her a small smile, glancing down at his lap again. “You make it sound like it’s the worst thing I could ever want,” he says, looking back up at her, nudging against the palm of her hand.
“If those are the only things you want for yourself, even as a knight, your life is more sad than you led me to believe, and I wish it could be better. I wish I could make it better.” Summer bit at her lip, face full of sadness.